


mostly void, partially stars

by fiskanel



Category: Haikyuu!!, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Radio, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Night Vale Community Radio, Radio Host Miya Atsumu, Scientist Sakusa Kiyoomi, The Voice of Night Vale, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiskanel/pseuds/fiskanel
Summary: “And have you seen that beautiful scientist who has come to our town recently? Oh, he is so gorgeous! And his perfect hair…,” a sigh of admiration interrupts the host’s speech. “I mean, lots of people have nice hair, but those dark wavy strands…They might be silky and fluffy to the touch, I’m sure he uses something to keep them in such condition. And that lab coat. Have you seen it, dear listeners? I've personally never seen a man who looked so good in a lab coat before. This white fabric over a black t-shirt looks incredibly beautiful. He looks beautiful,” the radio host sighs again, his voice now filled with confusion and curiosity. “I don’t really know what the reasons for his arrival are – maybe he isn’t a scientist at all – but he sure is very smart… Maybe he’s come to our town to check the climate changes, or to have a small vacay, or  – Maybe he doesn’t even exist, dear listeners. Maybe we all do not exist,” he goes silent, as if deeply stuck in this topic of non-existence. A few seconds go by until he speaks again. “Anyway, existence is quite a blurry concept, dear listeners, and what is not blurry is his perfect hair. If you haven’t seen it – go and see. And now – the weather.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	mostly void, partially stars

**Author's Note:**

> a little bit of night vale sceneries here, some radio host x scientist interpretations there, add those strange feelings and stir it till it all gets familiar to you
> 
> also check [this art ](https://twitter.com/mvieds_m/status/1230206302531526657) made by @mvieds_m

This evening seems to be special for Sakusa: after many hours he’s spent at a local college, proving that he deserves to get a research fellowship, he sits in a diner nearby, drinking coffee and trying to get used to the new conditions in which he apparently will have to live a little longer until the application is confirmed. He listens to a science podcast on his phone until it runs out of battery, then looks at the diner. A couple of tables, sofas, a jukebox. The woman behind the counter, her face buried in a newspaper. Radio on. Nice view.

Oh, the radio. Sakusa first looks around for the receiver itself - a small box is standing on a wide shelf with cups and pots, - and then listens. The voice of the radio host sounds so lively, as if he is standing behind Sakusa’s back.

“And have you seen that beautiful scientist who has come to our town recently? Oh, he is so gorgeous! And his perfect hair…,” a sigh of admiration interrupts the host’s speech. “I mean, lots of people have nice hair, but those dark wavy strands…They might be silky and fluffy to the touch, I’m sure he uses something to keep them in such condition. And that lab coat. Have you seen it, dear listeners? I've personally never seen a man who looked so good in a lab coat before. This white fabric over a black t-shirt looks incredibly beautiful. He looks beautiful,” the radio host sighs again, his voice now filled with confusion and curiosity. “I don’t really know what the reasons for his arrival are – maybe he isn’t a scientist at all – but he sure is very smart… Maybe he’s come to our town to check the climate changes, or to have a small vacay, or – Maybe he doesn’t even exist, dear listeners. Maybe we all do not exist,” he goes silent, as if deeply stuck in this topic of non-existence. A few seconds go by until he speaks again. “Anyway, existence is quite a blurry concept, dear listeners, and what is not blurry is his perfect hair. If you haven’t seen it – go and see. And now – the weather.”

He goes silent, and some indie music starts playing, immersing the diner in a comfy-summery atmosphere. The sunset over the city is already fading, the last rays stain the clouds in soft reddish shades and glide over the table where Sakusa is sitting. The diner is almost empty: there’s a couple at a corner table, chattering softly, and a lady behind the counter. Sakusa lifts his head.

“What was it?”

“Huh?” the lady behind the counter looks up from her newspaper, giving him an uncomprehending look. “Ah, that one. That’s our community radio, and don’t ask me to switch it off – I’ve got the night shift and this is my only pleasure.”

“And is it…Always like that?” Sakusa frowns in slight disarray and looks in his emptied cup: the coffee stains on its sides, seeming chaotic before, now have more clear outlines. Like smooth circles on water, all the same shape, with no gaps – a strange thing for Sakusa to see.

“Like what?” the lady attempts to pour him more coffee from the pot, but Sakusa covers the cup with his hand; that's enough for today.

“Gossiping and stuff.”

“Well, that’s not actually gossiping,” the lady corrects him. “These are the news. The town is small, everyone knows each other, and when someone new arrives – we need to pay attention. Strange thing can happen,” Sakusa thinks for a second that the woman winks at him. “Don’t be offended by our host’s chit-chats, he is a nice guy, and –”

“Alright,” Sakusa rises from his a chair, pays for the coffee - strange, so strange, that everything inside of him seems to be turning over and going back to its places in a matter of seconds. “Thank you.”

He leaves the diner, stepping out into the fresh summer air. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, and the street lamps crackle with yellowish light. The lab coat rests at the bottom of Sakusa’s bag.

**x**

Sakusa is shown his new lab the very next day. He can't figure out why they didn't take him there right away: the college administration was happy to inform him that “no one else applied for a grant in our city, and, by the way, our last scientist mysteriously died when exploring the Glow Cloud which we all hail, and, by the way, here are the keys to the lab, have a good day.”

He spends the whole day cleaning up: the dust now covers all the lockers, cabinets, microscopes; some archive folders in the table urgently need to be sorted, and the clothes hangers seem to be bitten by someone and also need to be replaced. A nice occasion to visit the store in the evening.

He is a bit surprised to learn that coffee pots are illegal here; if you want coffee – go to the diner, if you want problems – go try to find a coffee pot in a store. No coffee is allowed here. No. Coffee. This is what the shop-assistant keeps on repeating while he takes the hangers and attempts to leave. No coffee, alright. Things get stranger and stranger.

When Sakusa enters the diner, all eyes are on him: he feels the way people are inspecting him, sipping their coffee, and is a bit uncomfortable with it. He is openly stared at when he sits down at the counter and orders coffee, placing a bag of hangers on the chair next to him; while he drinks, he feels curious glances piercing the back of his head, and hears people whispering "it's him, isn't it?". Live orchestral performance on the radio doesn’t make things better.

“And what time does that show start?” Sakusa asks the lady behind the counter, trying to ignore all those curious gazes.

“At night,” she shrugs her shoulders. “When everyone is at home.”

“At 9 p.m., like yesterday?” he attempts to clarify, but the lady only smiles mysteriously.

“Any time at night. Everyone is at home any time,” she seems to wink again. “It’s usually 11 p.m. when he starts, sometimes it feels like midnight, if we assume that time exists.”

When she utters this, Sakusa thinks for a second: what time is it? Since his phone went dead, he hasn't even bothered to know it. Now it feels like evening. The right moment to buy a radio receiver for the lab.

**x**

As he puts everything in the lab in order, reordering test tubes in their places, wiping microscopes and hanging his things in the closet, the programs on the radio are replaced one after another: instead of live orchestral performances, they first broadcast some strange sports game, then an advice show is on, then - about half an hour of silence. It all seems odd for Sakusa: who would be broadcasting silence as a separate radio block? Who would be –

His thoughts are interrupted with a cheerful voice from the receiver.

“Hello, dear listeners, and here are the most important news for today!” the host seems really excited as he starts the show. “Remember that scientific-looking guy? With that perfect hair and a white lab coat he was wearing at the community college. Of course, you do. He _is_ a scientist, dear listeners! And now he owns that lab! I knew he would be a scientist, I knew it, and now, when facts are proven, we may hope for the best. I remind you of a sudden and mysterious death of our previous scientist who was obsessed with the Glow Cloud we all hail, and want you, dear listeners, to be careful,” the excitement in his voice now sounds like concern. “If something strange happens in the streets – do not run, do not show your fear. Do _not_ make the things stranger than they are. All hail the Glow Cloud and be care – ”

The receiver buzzes, muffing the rest of the phrase, and Sakusa taps the radio several times to change the signal. The buzzing reminds him of files: he hates insects, and now when the room is almost immersed in those fly-like sounds, Sakusa involuntarily grimaces. He switches the radio off when nothing happens for ten minutes and takes some time (if it really exists, though) to think over everything: he doesn't really like being discussed, especially if it's done on the radio and all over the town. He doesn't like being admired simply because it makes him uncomfortable. Who is this radio host anyway? Was he watching Sakusa? Is he stalking Sakusa? All this sounds very unpleasing.

**x**

“Woah, what a day!” the lady behind the counter exclaims as Sakusa enters the diner the following morning (or what seems to be the morning, anyway). He closes the door firmly, making sure that no dust will ever get into; the windows of the diner rattle, the glass vibrates under severe wind pressure.

“Do you often have dust storms?” he clears his throat, feeling the dust on his tongue, on his lips, and all over his body. It feels disgusting. “It might be a rare phenomenon for you area.”

“Sometimes we do, and sometimes we don’t,” she chuckles.

Sakusa literally feels how itchy his head is, hair seems to be covered with dust from the roots to the very tips. Gross.

“I wanted to ask where the radio station is,” he finally remembers why he made his way through that horrible wind and that pervasive dust. Sure, the radio station.

“No one knows that for sure, honey,” the lady yawns as she turns over the newspaper pages. “It can be right here, or over there, or right in the middle of nowhere.” She winks at him. Again. “If the universe wants you there, you’ll get there.”

During these couple of days in the town Sakusa understood something: never argue with the locals, they know it better. If the universe is to blame, let it be. If the strange cloud – let it be. Be patient and silent. Trust yourself. Don’t lick your lips when they are covered with dust. Ugh, gross.

He is now wearing a black hoodie, and nothing can indicate that he is a scientist, although some people at the diner still stare at him. Maybe it’s because of the dust. Not because of his so-called perfect hair, definitely.

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you want to get your coffee?” the lady asks, surprised at the sight of him by the door, fingers poised on the handle. The coffee pot in her hand only proves her eagerness to make coffee for everyone in this town. “Take the mask from the tray, at least!”

Sakusa does as he is told: he takes a dust mask, puts it on his face, fixing the loops and leaves the diner. Maybe the dust storms are frequent here, if they have special masks. He doesn't want to put up with this fact, because the wind blows away the hood, the dust gets under the hoodie, but at least not in the respiratory tract: the mask really protects well, thanks and stuff.

He can't lift his head and look around properly, but he goes forward intuitively, hoping that his laboratory is in that direction. The wind whizzes around him as if it's going to blow him away.

Sakusa slips and almost falls, but it's not the wind to blame now; the sneaker is sliding on something on the ground. Sakusa looks closely. Some kind of a flyer. Not int –

_‘Eager to help your community radio? Bring us the goods! Old headphones, cut wires, chipped mugs –’_

The flyer is torn, one corner is missing, but Sakusa sees it. The community radio. The address. How did that lady say? If the universe wants you there, you’ll get there, so Sakusa keeps going, even though he can’t see his way through all that dust and wind.

**x**

The red-brick building he eventually runs into doesn’t seem to be the radio station, but the dust storm leaves no other option than to hide on the staircase, leading to some kind of a basement. He stands there, all tired, dust seemingly everywhere, with a flyer in his hand and that strange address on it, absolutely lost in his thoughts. He shouldn’t have followed that silly line about the universe, probably, and should’ve stayed at the lab, waiting for the dust storm to be over while conducting his studies. It could’ve brought him more success, than this hide-and-seek game next to the basement door.

“Hey, man, don’t block the entrance!” Sakusa feels someone pushing him aside and running upstairs, to the street, shouting cheerfully. The guy is wearing dark round glasses and a face mask with a smile on it, his head is covered with a hood, and he looks like he really enjoys the wind and the dust. He is holding something in his hands that Sakusa can’t see from his place, and the next second the guy runs down to him, putting his glasses off and looking at Sakusa with a hint of reproach in his eyes. “Hey! Don’t block the entrance! Someone like me may have an urgent need to enter and you will be the obstacle.”

“And what is this place?” Sakusa asks, turning around to see the door behind him. It doesn’t seem strange like all other places in this town. Just a door.

“The radio station, of course! Are you a new intern or one of those volunteers with chipped mugs and cut wires?” the guy looks excited examining Sakusa’s appearance. “Wait! The hair! Aren’t you our new scientist?”

Sakusa cannot but nod. Everyone in this town seems to be obsessed with his hair and it all feels strange.

“That’s cool! Wanna go to the station with me and be our guest for today?”

There’s no time to explain what Sakusa’s real intentions are, so he nods again, and with that nod the guy pushes him aside again, opening the door and inviting Sakusa in.

The hallways of the studio wind away into a labyrinth of audio equipment and tape stacks as Sakusa follows the cheerful guy. It’s strange for him to find out that the studio is on the underground floor, not on the upper ones, where the signal would definitely be better, but he’s not an expert in all that radio stuff. Maybe it’s better for a radio station to be underground. Maybe it’s their thing.

As the corridors alternate and the boy runs forward, Sakusa nearly crashes into the equipment several times. They eventually reach the place which Sakusa wants to call their main room – there are several threadbare sofas and lots of technical boxes with possible equipment, an imitation of a kitchen set with a sink, a microwave and a dozen of dirty mugs, and a lot of people staring at him.

“Kita-saaan, look what I’ve got for you! Our scientist! Right here!” the boy laughs and plunks down the sofa where the guy he might be addressing sits.

“That is nice,” the guy with light gray hair gives Sakusa a plain smile. “Hi.”

It wasn’t his voice on the radio, for sure, but still Sakusa has to greet him. Other people in the room keep staring at him. Pretty uncomfortable.

“I’m Hinata, by the way! Working as an intern here,” the ginger boy smiles brightly. “Kita-san, I’ve made the recording of a dust storm!”

“Well done,” he sips from the mug and puts it on the coffee table where his legs are. “Suna, can you digitize it so for the night show?”

“Yeah”, another monotonous voice, not him. Sakusa is an attentive listener.

“That’s Kita, our station manager!” that one with ginger hair exclaims. “Suna is an intern, too. Bokuto –”

“That’s me!” cheerful, but not him, again.

“ – is from sales, and Komori –”

“Hi,” another guy exclaims, and again, that’s not him.

“ – is the receptionist. Well, we don’t have the reception area itself, but if you want to, you can sit here and wait for… Whatever you need to wait!”

“I wanted to – ” Sakusa starts, but is interrupted by a sudden whine.

“Hinata, tell us you’ve seen Osamu somewhere near, I’m starving!” that owl-looking guy whimpers, stretching his back, and Sakusa freezes: so there’s someone else apart from them?

“No, sorry,” Hinata answers with an expression of sadness on his face. “He’s on his way, Bokuto-san, be sure! Our noodles are to come soon, with all those veggies and –”

“What did you want from us?” the station manager asks him and at first Sakusa doesn’t realize that the question is addressed to him.

“Nothing,” Sakusa admits and he isn’t really lying. “Wanted to see your midnight host.”

He hears that owl-looking guy making a strange hooting noise, but keeps a cold face.

“He doesn’t come so early,” the receptionist guy explains.

“Bad luck, then,” Sakusa feels strange when speaking about luck; he is a scientist, after all. But no one cares about this paradox.

“Horrible luck, I’d say!” the ginger guy exclaims.

“Awful!” the owl-looking guy shouts.

“Monstrous!”

“Dreadful!”

“Wretched!”

“You can leave him a message,” Sakusa brings his attention back to the station manager and sees a pen in his hand.

A brilliant idea Sakusa has now to acknowledge. He takes the pen and looks at the flyer in his own hand, then flips it over on one of the equipment boxes and starts writing. That would do.

**x**

Sakusa spends the whole day conducting all kinds of dust research in his laboratory, busy with the test tubes and the microscopes with samples, so by midnight – or so - he loses track of time – again – and is surprised to hear the fruity voice from the receiver. He doesn’t even remember turning it on, but it all appears to be in some sort of a harmony with that midnight show on. The host’s voice wraps Sakusa softly as he does his job.

“…and that was all about the traffic for today, now –Wait a minute, dear listeners. Our intern Hinata has just passed me a note. He said it’s from some of my…fans?” he seems to unfold the flyer right in front of the mike, as Sakusa can clearly hear the sound of crumpled paper from his radio. He can also assume that the host is nervous now. He surely should be. “Wow, what a neat handwriting. It says…Wait. ‘Stop fuc –’ Oh,” he might be blushing right now, Sakusa thinks with a test tube in his arm. “It says ‘stop _freaking_ following me’. Remember, dear listeners, we do not use any obscene words here on the radio! But I don’t really get… Wait. _Wait_. Is that what I think? Is that the person I’m thinking about right now? So, dear listeners, I suppose it’s the right time for us to go to the weather, yeah?” his voice is muffled as he distances from the microphone, but Sakusa manages to hear his final scream of disbelief. “Hinata? Is that him? Don’t you dare run away, I – ”

That’s strange, Sakusa thinks. Instead of smiling at his own thoughts and feeling himself a winner, he is like a shattered glass, mind torn and chaotic. Not a proper state for a scientist to have.

**x**

On the day of his arrival Sakusa was told about the community meetings and their importance for the locals. Even though he still wasn’t _local_ , they asked him to come, and Sakusa had nothing to do with that, sneaking into the city hall when the meeting had already begun.

  
It is busy and noisy: a speaker standing on the rostrum is reasoning on current events, the crowd lively reacting on each of his words, only a few people keeping silent in that hustle and bustle. The seat Sakusa takes is right by the door for him to leave as fast as possible.

“The police asked me to remind everyone of the dog park because for some strange reason lots of people have been trying to approach it recently,” the rostrum-man announces in a stern voice. “Atsumu, why is that so?”

He addresses someone Sakusa can’t see, but the moment he hears that voice everything gets clear.

“I don’t know!” This voice will be Sakusa’s death eventually. “I try to remind our listeners of the dog park every time, but they, I don’t know, they ignore it? Kita says the midnight show ratings are enormously high, and we always take care of our listeners, so –”

“Not good enough, Atsumu,” the man shakes his head in disapproval, and the next second Sakusa sees his own disaster when he pops up. Um, really. A disaster. He looks exactly like one. “They listen to you, so be a bit more persuasive.”

“How?” he intends to resent, hands crossed in front of his chief and a hurt look in his eyes.

“It’s up to you. Prove them this place is extremely dangerous. No one can approach the dog park, except for you, probably,” the man hums and his eyes meet Sakusa. “I see. Sakusa Kiyoomi, right? Nice to know you are here with us.”

Sakusa stands up and nods to the audience, greeting them; at that moment he feels all eyes at him – again, like he is a fucking miracle in this goddamn town – and he can distinguish that one look full of vivid and bright interest among others. That host is staring so evidently, as if he wants to devour Sakusa entirely.

He tries to focus on what that man says – the dog park, the danger, the tests – but loses the line, the mind and his own self being so desperately explored. He wonders if anyone in the hall has noticed it or is it just his exaggeration, but –

“Hi!” he is standing right in front Sakusa now, all bright and cheerful, awkward and cute, with that messy dyed hair and a sparkle of repentance in the eyes. “Time to get acquainted officially, I guess? I’m Miya Atsumu. The radio host.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he still tries to scrutinize Atsumu’s face, as if to elicit that strange thing that he owns, but fails again and again. “The scientist. But you already seem to know me.”

“Well, just a little bit,” Atsumu admits with a remorseful smile. “Your name is…,” he holds his breath, as if foretasting something pleasant. “Gorgeous. And you hair –”

“Yeah, heard enough about it, thanks,” Sakusa shrugs.

“Look, I didn’t even know you were listening...” Atsumu falters. His eyes are now darting, hands trifling the shirttail. “We don’t have newcomers very often, and every time they are so rare and so long-awaited that we cannot but discuss them.”  
  
Sakusa watches the people leave the hall, and a few seconds later they are all alone in the city hall. Feels better now.

“Hey,” Atsumu draws his attention, waving in front of Sakusa’s face. “Are you comfortable here? Something seems to be bothering you.”

“It’s fine”, Sakusa answers, still a bit stressed because of the crowd and the attention. Maybe the mask he now carries on his neck, pulled down from his face, would be a nice protection from people.

“Well, I’m here on business, actually,” Atsumu attempts to change the topic. “They want you to check the dog park, like, some scientific feedback would be nice.”  
  
Sakusa remembers being told that no one should approach the dog park and then being surprised to get no other details on this topic. Are dog parks prohibited here as well as coffee pots? Strange. Now is the time to deal with it.  
  
“Where’s the dog park?” he asks.

“What?” Atsumu shrieks in amazement. “Are you going to check it? I mean, really? I know you are a scientist, like, I’m totally sure you are smart and stuff, but - the dog park! Kiyoomi! Can I call you so?” Atsumu suddenly goes serious, lost in reflection now.

“Yes,” Sakusa answers and then clarifies. “Yes, I should check the dog park, I guess. It’s my job. And yes, you can call me Kiyoomi.”

Atsumu’s face brightens.

“Cool! They said I should have some punishment for not being that persuasive,” he rolls his eyes and makes a grimace, and Sakusa cannot but chuckle at his offended image. “So we can walk there right now and you’ll do all the work, Omi-kun, and - Oh, is that okay if I call you Omi-kun? Or Kiyoomi is better?”  
  
“That’s fine,” Sakusa takes his bag from the chair, inspecting the empty hall. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah!” Atsumu smiles. “Let’s go, Omi-Omi, to the - Oh, sorry, is that okay with you?”  
  
“Look, everything is okay until it interferes with my work,” Sakusa sighs in relief and turns to the door. “Going now?”

He opens the door and leaves the hall, Atsumu following him happily and chattering about his gorgeous name and hair.

As they reach the dog park, Atsumu seems to reach his limit of compliments: Sakusa has already heard such adjectives as “tremendous”, “startling”, “fabulous”, “incredible” and many others in regard to himself. Busy with all his admiration, Atsumu doesn’t notice how Sakusa reaches the park gate with his hand.  
  
“Woah!” he shouts. “You can’t enter the dog park like that. No one can enter it.”  
  
Sakusa stares into his face, slightly surprised by the stupidity of the things happening.  
  
“And how am I supposed to check it, then?” he asks politely.

  
Atsumu titters slightly. “Check it from the outside.”

  
“Look, you seem to be unaware of how scientific studies work,” Sakusa answers in a quiet annoyed voice. “I need to go there. Take water samples, check the soil, the plants and everything. If there’s something dangerous - I’ll make an official announcement.”  
  
“Omi-kun, please,” Atsumu tries to catch his hand with his own but Sakusa only pushes his palm away. “No one should enter it. Please. Our community doesn’t want to lose one more scientist.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes: how stupid and how strange is that, but he obediently makes a step back from the gates.

“All right. Then don’t interfere.”

Sakusa takes some strange - for Atsumu only - scientific things from the bag, some test tubes and medicine droppers, and looks around. He comes closer to the fence with Atsumu following his every step with a careful look and thrusts his hand between the iron rods of the fence.

“Shit, Omi-Omi!” Atsumu bursts out with worry. “You can’t do that!”  
  
“I asked you not to interfere,” Sakusa answers coldly while trying to grab the lead from the bush.

“But it’s dangerous!” Atsumu whines. “You can’t enter the dog park.”  
  
“I’m not entering it as you can see.” Sakusa struggles to put the leaf into the test tube and not to release other tubes from his hand, but then simply passes it to Atsumu. “Don’t stay rooted to the ground like that. Make use of yourself.”  
  
Atsumu nods, embarrassed, and takes the tube with the leaf.

“But what are you...”

“Don’t interfere,” Sakusa reminds him, busy with taking the soil samples in his cool-and-neat-scientific-gloves, as highlighted by Atsumu. “Here, take this one.”

Atsumu takes another tube in his hand, shaking it a bit and looking at how the pieces of soil roll over.

“Water now,” Sakusa hums. He sees the puddle next to the gates, but still on the territory of the park, and squats. He now sits there, by the gate, with his hand trying to reach the puddle with a dropper. He barely holds his balance even, clinging to the rod with one hand, and stretches forward.

“Oh-oh”, Atsumu says nervously and taps Sakusa’ shoulder.

“Don’t interfere.”

“No, look - ”

“Don’t! I’m almost there,” Sakusa interrupts him in a sharp voice, hand still trying to reach the puddle and one side of his body squeezing through the robes to get closer. Only a few inches separate him from his aim.

Sakusa feels a firm grip on his shoulder and the next second he is dragged from the fence. He can’t even shout in anger: it knocks him off balance, and he flops down on the pavement, a dropper still in his hand and a look of disbelief in his eyes. Sakusa lifts his head but says nothing. The way Atsumu looks now terrifies him.

“We’re leaving, we’re leaving, sorry!” he is now glued to the fence, waving at someone Sakusa can’t see and apologizing for literally nothing. “Nice hoods, by the way! Neat! Ha-ha, sorry again, bye!”

He turns around and sees Sakusa, steel frozen down on the pavement, with an angry look on his face and curses, trying to help him up, but getting ignored eventually.

“Sorry, sorry, Omi-Omi, but we’d better hurry,” he mumbles, urging Sakusa to leave the park’s surrounding. “Yikes, you’re injured!”

Sakusa looks at his palm – an abrasion, how come – and clenches the injured hand. He stands up, discontent and confusion both on his face, and checks his bag. “The samples. Where did you put them?”

When Atsumu lifts his hand, Sakusa sees them: his two test tubes are right between his fingers, and that very second Sakusa notices how disturbed Atsumu is.

“What was that?” he asks, taking the test tubes.

“The hooded figures. Haven’t you heard of them?” as they move away, Atsumu seems to calm down.

“Never.”

“Look, Omi-kun,” Atsumu suddenly stops and looks at him attentively. “They are dangerous. No one should enter the dog park. No one should face the hooded figures even if they are feet away,” he sighs and then keeps talking. “What I did was stupid, but here I am, all alive – well, probably, as I don’t make the odds – and I do not want anyone to do the same. Do not approach the dog park ever again,” ah, that persuasive radio voice again. “Omi-kun?”

“Why there’s so much fuss about it?” Sakusa still has no clue.

“Our community can’t lose someone like you,” he tells Sakusa with a slightly plaintive smile.

**x**

At night, when Sakusa is all busy with checking the samples and making notes on how strange the things really are, Atsumu is all but pure excitement.

“…and then the hooded figures started to approach the fence from their side of the park, but our pure and beautiful scientist was doing his scientific job, all concerned and busy with those samples, and me, your right-hand guy, had to take control over the situation. As you can hear now, I am still alive, but trust me, dear listeners: the dog park is not a place to approach. Do not enter the dog park. Do not look at the hooded figures,” he seems to put the mike a bit further because the following sounds are muffled. “And our intern Suna now passes me a note from…our intern Hinata? Oh, I see, he went home earlier. Dear listeners, our intern Hinata wants me to announce that…No, Hinata! That wasn’t a date! Our gorgeous scientist and I were taking samples of different scientific _things_ near the dog park, we were not on a date, how could you even… Ugh, gross! Let’s switch to the weather now,” he says turning the music on. Sakusa chuckles.

A date, then.

**x**

He goes to the dog park the very next morning, now without any instructions from the council and without Atsumu this time, but with a white lab coat on to feel more confident. Raindrops land on the ironed fabric with a hollow sound, drum on the asphalt, the smell of wet dust is in the air. He looks at the gates of the park and the dark scenery behind them. No hooded figures. No dogs. No one.

The gates are open, strangely enough, and when Sakusa gets in, he feels as if the strongest wind tries to annihilate him. He remembers about the mask pulled down to his neck and quickly lifts it up to hide the lower part of his face, but the wind keeps blowing, and when Sakusa turns his head he sees that not a single leaf on the bushes has been bothered.

He makes a few steps forward and squats down, a test tube in his arm, but the wind, alongside with the dust scratching his face with its tiny particles, make his further movements impossible. There’s someone approaching him – definitely is, and Sakusa screws up his eyes to distinguish the silhouette. Tall and hooded. Not Atsumu. Definitely.

It takes him an enormous amount of effort to reach the test tube in his bag and to open it; his hands seem to be out of his control. But now, when it’s raining and the puddles are everyone, Sakusa can be sure that he’ll manage to take enough samples.

He can’t hear the wind whistling or the ominous sounds playing in the background, no birds are tweeting in panic and no not-allowed-in-the-dog-park dogs are barking in the street; everything goes silence when Sakusa feels someone’s hand tapping his shoulder.

“Um, hi?” Sakusa shakes his head, and the dark silhouette in the depth of the dog park disappears. The voice comes somewhere from behind. “Any help?”

All energy seems to be sucked out of Sakusa’s body. He stares at the puddle, then on the test tube – he doesn’t remember collecting the water, though – but still can’t find strength to turn around. 

“No one is allowed to enter the dog park, haven’t you heard?” something in this voice seems familiar, yet it is interrupted by the sounds of sucking something through a straw. “Meh, you’d better leave, man.”

A couple of minutes – or maybe a whole eternity – passes by and Sakusa finally can move. His limbs are numb, he feels dizzy, but now he has an appropriate water sample, at least. All way to the lab is like a hazy mist for him. A bizarre phenomenon he would probably devote a part of his research fellowship.

**x**

That feels strange. Sakusa tries to focus on this strangeness and to clarify it – to find some of the most peculiar things, to think of a solution, to plan his testament – but nothing seems to be possible as he fails to do any of that activity for quite a long time or what it seems to be. He somehow reaches the lab and somehow manages to work – or maybe to mimic the working process – when a doorbell rings. He doesn’t even remember having one. His mind is all but a total mess.

“Shit, you look really bad!” Atsumu cusses, entering the lab with a box in his hands. He puts it on the nearest table and comes closer. Sakusa can’t figure out why such invasion in his personal space doesn’t bother him, and he catches himself thinking on that situation in the dog park when he realized it wasn’t Atsumu approaching him, and – Why does he care so much? A warm hand presses to his forehead and all thoughts are gone. Head completely empty. “Omi-kun! You are feverish!”

Atsumu’s voice keeps echoing in the background, the lab whirls in an unsteady scenery.

“I just wanted to bring you a coffee pot as you seemed to be obsessed with coffee, and – shit, Omi-Omi!” his hands embrace Sakusa as he falls a bit forward. “Look, all eyes on me now, right?”

He chuckles nervously pressing Sakusa to his chest and trying to move him aside, to the table.

“Don’t black out, Omi-kun, all eyes on me,” he manages to laugh in such a pitiful situation when Sakusa barely breathes. “Don’t you want to know how I got you the coffee pot? Ha-ha, that was a silly idea, to be honest, and Kita wanted to behead me for that stunt, but look – look, Omi-kun, don’t black out! – here it is now, your new coffee pot, please move your legs, I can’t carry you.”

They move aside – Sakusa is sure he doesn’t feel his legs – and Atsumu catches him again, guiding to the door.

“Oh, cool, a bathroom right in the lab! Neat!” Atsumu tries to sound as if nothing strange is happening but fails as Sakusa can tell from the fear in his eyes. “So you might have a bedroom here, right? That door?”

Sakusa hums something but can only hear Atsumu cursing.

“I should’ve checked you earlier, shit. Shit!” they bump into another table with test tubes on it and, thanks to all higher powers, nothing falls down. “I didn’t even think that was it. Osamu was like ‘I’ve seen someone in the dog park’, and we were like ‘Geez, how stupid, rest in peace, whoever it was.’ I didn’t mean to call you stupid – be careful, the boxes – because you are so smart and gorgeous and – shit, try to stand here, I can’t open the door with one hand – and I’ve never seen a person like you in our town and – here, come with me, Omi-kun, just a few steps – I didn’t even think of you being in danger, I couldn’t imagine you entering the dog park after the things I said – shit, here, lie down.”

He nearly sobs but suddenly the immense unrest in his eyes vanishes; he takes the lab coat off Sakusa’s shoulders and lifts him up a bit to put it away.

“You might’ve noticed that something’s wrong with this place,” he pauses and looks for something in his pockets, while Sakusa is still lost in that whirl of events. “That dog park, right? Aren’t all dog parks made for dogs and people? And those strangely glowing raindrops…The mighty Glow Cloud we all hail. The hooded figures. The dust storms. The coffee pots prohibited everywhere but not in the diner. The community radio station,” he makes a reserved chuckle and continues. “The strangeness of this time is overwhelming and it’s not as hospitable as it may seem at first… Look, those abnormal phenomena happen daily and we are just a part of them. Me, Osamu, Kita, all my people on the radio, all those people from the diner – we just got used to it and nothing bothers us, but people like you, they – they are different. Someone manages to stay here and someone doesn’t. I mean, there were lots of cases with ordinary people living happily ever after here, but others have died or disappeared or – I don’t even have a clue. Someone has choked on that dust or got radiation poisoning under the Glow Cloud we all hail. Or got lost in the dog park. Or something like that. Because they didn’t belong to this place. They weren’t the parts of it. But I _feel_ like you are the part of it, I can’t explain it, just – You seem to be like us.”

There’s another sob Sakusa feels an urgent need to react to but he only can grab Atsumu’s hand.

“Maybe you’ve got intoxication while exploring the park or it was something totally wrong with the rain or the leaves you’ve been examining – I don’t freaking know!” he shouts nervously but then pats Sakusa’s hand. “I only know you won’t die, Omi-kun. People like you can’t be killed with intoxication,” Atsumu gives him a warm smile and texts something in his phone. Strange enough: Sakusa has thought that no phones work here since his own one discharged. There’s something sparkling on his fingers – like a pixie dust or some sort of glitter – but Sakusa cannot make up his mind and closes his eyes. “You’ll get some sleep now, yeah? And then everything will vanish, and you won’t feel so strange, and maybe I will tell you about my feelings towards you and you won’t kick my ass for being so persuasive, and maybe I’ll ask Kita for a day-off to go on a date with you if you’re not against it, and then when your research fellowship expires you’ll stay here as our community scientist and –”

Sakusa feels strange, like his head is chock-full of cotton balls, all soft and soundproof, comfortable and weightless. The smell in the room is strange, it reminds him of wet dust and honey; the skin is strangely itchy. Some sleep and everything will vanish. Some sleep and –

**x**

Their community hospital looks pretty nice – Sakusa would even say neat, but this word doesn’t belong to him. He spends some days there, watching the pills on his bedside table renewed every hour and the nurses passing by his ward, but makes no attempts to leave. It all feels familiar like he’s spent ages there.

Getting back to his work is hard, though: there are tons of new documents on the tables and dozens of filled test tubes he doesn’t remember putting there, several types of masks – the dust, the medical and the paint ones – waiting for him on the tray by the door, his bed unmade and fridge empty. The only thing that still hurts after the hospital is his hand – an abrasion, now bandaged, keeps on bothering him with nagging pain, but again – it seems familiar. Even a new mug and some new clothes are. Everything seems to be on their places.

His phone works now, and emails from the city council don’t keep him waiting for too long: go there, do that, check those. News on the re-opening of the dog park dazzles on the screen. Community chats buzz with notifications. All hail the mighty Glow Cloud. Coffee is now allowed in the diner and in the city council. If you’re happy and you know it, no you don’t. Please do approach the dog park. Bring old headphones, cut wires and chipped mugs to your community radio. Be ready for the dust storm. Walk your dog daily, preferably in the dog park.

The lab coat is all ironed and smells of some sweet fabric softener, waiting for Sakusa on a clothes hanger, and a coffee pot is all filled just for him. As he enters the radio station’s building, he sees no trace of Atsumu there: Bokuto is drowsing on the couch, Kita busy in his laptop, Komori constructing the reception desk. Too early, again?

Kita welcomes him with a mild smile and a wave of his hand, eyes glued to the screen.

“Anything we can help you with?” he asks.

“The city council wanted me to check the signals to make sure no other radio intercepts your frequencies.”

“Ah, all right,” Kita shrugs, as if nothing should be clarified. As if he is familiar with the procedure. “Be careful with the nest of owls in the corner. Ask Suna to help, he might be over there.”

They check the frequencies almost a hundred times, switching from live orchestral performances to sports commentaries, from shrieks of terror to silence, from backmasking messages to university chants. Even if their radio is now broadcasting a quiz on local birds, something intercepts it with high regularity.

Sakusa writes it down in his notebook – “ _check all the receivers in town, go to nearby stations if necessary_ ” – and is now surprised to see how neat his handwriting is. Neat. N. E. A. T. He doesn’t remember to use this word frequently but now it feels to fit everywhere.

“So, how are you feeling? Atsumu hasn’t been much talkative recently,” Kita hands Sakusa a mug with hot coffee in it and sits back on the couch.

Sakusa has plenty of words twisting in his mind, but fails to articulate them. How can one articulate everything that has happened in the past few days in one word?

“Familiar, yeah?” Sakusa nods at his words, not paying attention to what Kita has just called familiar – his coffee, their meeting at the studio or his life. “It’s nice, then. Those days with you at the hospital were a nightmare for all of us because of Atsumu’s reaction. He didn’t eat properly, even though I asked him to and even brought him bento, and was so cold during his shows. And with that dog park re-opening… He was so sarcastic!” Kita raised his eyebrows and made another sip. “I got a message from the city council asking to ‘make our host less stressed’, can you imagine that? Hope you’ve already seen him so he doesn’t get mad tonight.”

Sakusa didn’t even think of it. Seeing Atsumu? Doing what?

“I see,” Kita chuckles. “Busy with all that scientific stuff again. He will be here in two hours or less, so you may wait for him here or – ”

He is twisting a familiar pen in his fingers and Sakusa gets the idea immediately, continuing Kita’s thought.

“ – or I can leave him a message.”

**x**

By the end of the day – or what seems to be the end of the day – Sakusa is finished with checking all the radio receivers in the town, apart from his own, now placed on a bedside table while he is writing a report for the city council.

“Please, make sure you remember that the dog park is now re-opened, dear listeners. Dogs are now allowed to enter the dog park. People are now allowed to enter the dog park with their dogs,” Sakusa hears the voice in the background and smiles; familiar, as usual.

“And now, a word from our sponsors,” Atsumu announces in his best persuasive manner possible, getting rid of his previously sarcastic hints completely. “Our sponsor for today is… Our community laboratory? Wait, what?”

Atsumu’s voice is muffled, mike probably too far from him.

“Is that another prank of yours, Hinata? Bokuto? Yeah, I know that. Yeah. No. Yeah. No, stop making those smooching sounds, ugh, that’s gross!”

He brings the mike back again, voice cheerful as usual. Persuasive. Familiar.

“Back to the word from our sponsors, dear listeners,” he coughs to make his voice more advertisement-like and starts reading. “Haven’t you ever fallen in love with a person you’ve known for less than two weeks? With all their unwanted comments on your hair and name, their eagerness to touch you, unnecessary attention? Their curious friends looking like a pack of jackals or a skulk of foxes? Their all-knowing nature and their I-am-better-than-all-of-you image? Their sarcasm and immense acting skills? Haven’t you ever been so focused on these flaws that they soon turned into merits? Because I have.”

Sakusa can hear how confusion invades Atsumu’s voice as he reads the lines. He knows Atsumu can’t quit reading – this sponsor’s rubric is a must-finish thing, thanks Kita for introducing it.

“I’m not sure I have the rights to say this, maybe it was all just a hazy dream and we do not exist here, but,” Atsumu pauses, quote abrupted. He takes his breath and tries to sound more composed. “Sorry, dear listeners. But would you date me, Miya Atsumu?”

Even now Sakusa can hear the familiar shouts in the background, as Bokuto and Hinata attempt to sabotage his show with their excitement.

“And a post scriptum note here, dear listeners. It says ‘I’ve already asked your station manager to give you a day-off. He had nothing against it. Love you’,” the two last words are muffled in some half-sob-half-sigh sound Sakusa has yet to distinguish and to give a proper name to. A soft laughter comes from the receiver. “You are a freaking idiot, Omi-kun, so perfect and gorgeous and smart that I – Yes. I will definitely date you.”

**Author's Note:**

> seriously go and listen to wtnv podcasts


End file.
